Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
WAYLON
I drive another nail into the wood. The rhythmic pounding of the hammer would be soothing if it weren’t for the storm brewing in my chest. As it is, I struggle not to level the cabin with just this hammer. Anger and hurt exploded inside me after discovering that ledger and the truth about what happened all those generations ago.
I force myself to focus on the task at hand, but my thoughts keep drifting back to Angelica.
Daryl grunts as he holds the railing steady. “You sure you want to wail on this porch like that with your hammer? You’re going to destroy what we’ve spent the day working on if you don’t let up.”
I glance at him, wiping the sweat off my brow with the back of my hand. “Ah, fuck.”
Daryl’s chuckle is dry, more of an acknowledgment than amusement. He shifts his grip on the plank he’s holding. “You’re worked up. What’s going on with you?”
I pause, the hammer hanging loosely in my hand. What isn’t going on with me? My mind is a mess, tangled up with memories of Angelica and the damned ledger that confirmed everything I never wanted to believe about our families.
I don’t answer Daryl right away, focusing on the task instead. I need to get this railing done, to fix something that can actually be fixed. We can’t have a drunken guest falling off the porch and cracking their head open—and a lot of our guests get drunk up here. We’ve had more than our share, something Daryl knows all too well.
Daryl watches me, not letting it go. “Come on, Waylon. We’ve known each other since we were kids. I can tell when something’s eating at you.”
I sigh, setting the hammer down and rubbing my jaw through the roughness of my beard. I’ve been trying to push it all down, trying to act like everything’s fine, but it’s not.
“It’s Angelica,” I finally say, my voice rougher than I intended.
Daryl’s eyebrows shoot up. “Uh oh. What happened?”
“She called and asked for help with repairs to her family’s old place, up by Silver Pine Ridge.”
“Really now?” Daryl laughs and lets out a low whistle. “Bet that was a surprise. How’d it go?”
“It started okay. I ended up staying the night,” I admit, giving Daryl a warning look not to tease me about it. Then I tell him about finding the ledger.
Daryl curses under his breath. “Damn. That’s rough. But come on, Waylon. That’s old news, right? Something that happened ages ago. Why let it mess with you now?”
“Because it’s proof, Daryl,” I snap harshly. He flinches, and I regret it immediately. “It’s proof that everything my family’s been saying is true. And now...now it’s just one more reason things between Angelica and me can’t work. Her family stole from mine. How am I supposed to forget that? I was a fool to think we could get it right this time.”
Daryl stares at me for a moment, then shakes his head. “Man, you’re letting the past mess with your future. So what if her great-grandfather was a cheat? That’s got nothing to do with who Angelica is or who you are now.”
I want to believe him. God, I want to. But the weight of the past is like a chain around my neck, dragging me down. Without replying, I pick up the hammer and drive another nail into the railing.
The cabin is quiet except for the bangs and thuds of our work. Daryl doesn’t press me further, but I know he’s not done with this conversation. Neither am I. Yet no matter how many nails I drive into this wood, it won’t fix what’s broken inside me.
After a while, Daryl speaks up again, his tone lighter but with an edge of frustration. “If I knew you were going to be a grumpy jackass, I’d have sent Moses up here. You two could be grumps together.”
I grunt in response, not looking up from the railing. “You don’t have to stick around. You could head out. I can finish up here.”
“True. But I’m here, so I’ll finish this with you. If you want to talk about what’s going on, I’m going to need more than grunts and grumbles out of you.”
I can’t help the small smile that tugs at the corner of my mouth. Daryl’s always been good at getting me out of my head, even if he has to annoy me to do it. “Sorry. Got a lot on my mind.”
“No kidding.” He steps back, wiping his hands on his jeans. “You know, Waylon, I always thought you and Angelica were good together. Even back when we were kids. Maybe this whole feud thing is a bunch of bullshit you should let go.”
I stiffen at his words. The thought of letting go of the anger and hurt is almost unthinkable. But a small part of me wonders if he’s right. If maybe I could let go of the past and build something new with Angelica.
Then, the image of that ledger flashes in my mind, and all the doubts come rushing back. “It’s not that simple, Daryl.”
“Doesn’t have to be complicated either,” he counters, crossing his arms. “You care about her, right? Always have. So what’s stopping you from trying?”
What’s stopping me? The list is endless. The betrayal, the history, the fear of getting hurt again. But mostly, it’s the knowledge that I might already be too late. That the damage has been done, and there’s no going back.
“She’s probably moved on,” I mutter, more to myself than Daryl.
Daryl raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t push the point. “If she had moved on, would she have spent last night with you? You won’t know unless you talk to her.”
He has a point.
But talk to her? Like that’s easy. Like I can just sit down with Angelica and have a nice chat about how our families hated each other. How we discovered her great-grandpa cheated mine, and thus my grandparents, parents, and me out of our birthright.
Deep down, I know Daryl’s right. I need to talk to her. I need to figure out if there’s a chance for us or if I need to let her go for good.
We finish the repairs, the silence between us more contemplative than tense. I’m lost in my thoughts, replaying every moment I’ve spent with Angelica since she came back. Her smile and the way her eyes softened when she looked at me...the rightness of making love to her, and the way she stiffened when she saw the ledger. I want to believe she didn’t know what was in it.
Once the railing is secure, Daryl steps back, examining our work. “Looks good. Should hold up for a while.”
“Yeah,” I agree, but my mind is elsewhere.
Daryl picks up on it, of course. “So, what’s the plan now? You gonna keep brooding, or are you going to do something about this?”
I run a hand through my hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. “I don’t know, Daryl. I just... I don’t know.”
He studies me for a moment, then claps a hand on my shoulder. “Well, whatever you decide, remember you have people who care about you. Don’t let this feud ruin your life. You deserve to be happy.”
I nod, appreciating his words even if I’m not sure I believe them. “Thanks, Daryl.”
He shrugs, a sincerity in his eyes that I don’t miss. “Anytime, boss.”
We pack up our tools, and as we load them into the truck, Daryl turns to me. “So, you sticking around here, or you want to grab a bite at King Tap?”
I hesitate at the thought of going to King Tap and running into people I know. I want to be on my own to figure out what the fuck to do with what I’ve learned and what to do about Angelica. But maybe not being alone is exactly what I need right now.
“Yeah,” I finally say. “Let’s go.”
The drive to King Tap is quiet, but the tension in my chest eases the closer we get. King Tap has always been a refuge for me, a change of pace from running the rental cabins and Creek Ravine.
The familiar scent of wood and beer greets us when we walk in. It’s still early, so the place isn’t packed yet, just a few regulars scattered at the tables. Marian looks up as we enter, a smile spreading across her face.
“Hey there, Waylon. Daryl,” she calls out, her voice warm and welcoming. “What brings you boys in so early?”
“Just finished some work up at the cabins,” Daryl says, sliding onto a barstool. “Figured we earned ourselves some lunch.”
“Well, you came to the right place.” Marian smiles. “You guys want the special?”
“Sure.”
“You know,” Daryl says after Marian heads to the kitchen. “Maybe talking to Angelica isn’t only about sorting things out for the future. Maybe it’s about making peace with the past too.”
I look at him, unsure what he’s getting at.
“I mean, think about it,” he continues. “Your family’s been holding onto this grudge for generations. And for what? A piece of land? What if you could be the one to finally put all that to rest?”
Put it to rest. The idea is almost laughable. I’ve spent my whole life thinking about that mountain, about what it means to my family. To me. But what if Daryl’s right? What if holding onto this grudge has been holding me back all these years?
“I don’t know, Daryl,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s not that simple.”
“Maybe not,” he agrees. “But maybe it is.”
We finish our beers in silence, each lost in our thoughts. When we’re done, I leave some cash on the bar and stand up. “Thanks, Marian.”
Daryl glances at me as we get back in the truck. “So, you gonna talk to her?”
I don’t answer right away, staring out at the fading light over the mountains. The thought of talking to Angelica, of trying to make things right between us, is terrifying. But the thought of losing her again, of letting this feud and the past ruin any chance we have...that’s even worse.
“Yeah,” I finally say, the word more certain than I feel. “Yeah, I think I have to.”
Daryl nods, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Good. About time you started thinking with your heart instead of your head.”
I chuckle, though it’s a dry sound. “Yeah, maybe.”
The next morning, my thoughts keep circling back to Angelica. The way her eyes lit up when she saw me and how her face softened when she smiled. Her expression when I read that ledger entry, like all the hope we’d been clinging to was ripped away in an instant.
I sip my coffee, the bitter taste grounding me in the present. I look at my phone, hoping to find a message from her.
I can’t keep living in the past. I can’t let it dictate my future. If there’s a chance that Angelica and I can work things out, I owe it to both of us to try.
But how do you bridge a gap that’s been widening for generations? How do you forgive a betrayal that’s festered for so long it’s become part of who you are?
I don’t have the answers, but I know I can’t keep running from the questions.
It’s time to stop letting the past dictate my life. It’s time to talk to Angelica and see if there’s a way forward, even if that means confronting the pain of the past.